I just want to say a big thank you to all of you who reached out to me last week. I was overwhelmed by the messages and the love I received, and most of all by all those prayers sent up on my behalf.

I could sense the power of prayers surrounding me on Wednesday and the following days. In the hospital on Wednesday, things went as quickly as they possibly could have - I spent some 6 hours there before I was sent home. On Thursday, I didn't need painkillers any more, and I felt strangely energised. On Friday, I took a long walk in Stockholm's old town (and unintentionally got stuck in the crowd celebrating the king's golden jubilee) - 12 000 steps. And although I felt weaker and had more pain over the weekend, I have still been able to visit some lovely church members, we've been helping out at the renovation of our "church home", and on Saturday evening my father-in-law taught me how to bake proper British scones. :)

The sadness I feel is not on a surface level but somewhere deep down. 12 weeks is a time long enough to get used to an idea of a completely different future. It is a time long enough to start imagining what that little boy or a girl would be like. So, when things end abruptly, you have to take on the hard work of re-imagining life, the work of going back to the way things were before, of erasing all the pictures from your head of what could have been. It's very strange. 

It still hurts my brain to think about future. 

Other than that, I'm fine. I'm not depressed, I'm not crying myself to sleep, I'm not isolating myself from the world. I'm back to work again - a sermon needs to be written today and a Bible study needs to be prepared. It is good to do meaningful things.   

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I found this poem a little while ago, and it resonated with me. And I can't help - every time I read this, I think about all those people in my life who are dealing or have dealt with major losses themselves. May these words help us see the wonderful stars in the middle of a dark night:

Two Sides of a Coin

It's as if we walked on water

It's roughly a year since I started working in Sweden. And it is only now that I begin to realise how very different my work here is, compared to the work I did in Estonia. Looking back at that first year, the things that make me the happiest are the things that I was never able to experience - for different reasons - in Estonia. My involvement on the local church level was limited there. Here, on the other hand, I have been able to take part in and experience all the different aspects of pastoral life. 

I call them The Big Four - a funeral, a wedding, a child dedication, a baptism. For the first time in my life, I have been able to do all of them. I had my first funeral early in spring, my first baptism in August, and my first child dedication and wedding now, in the beginning of September. Plus, I have also been able - again, for the first time ever - to take part in serving at the Lord's table. Like someone asked me when I told them this - what did you do in Estonia?

I didn't expect these things to mean so much to me. It has taken me by surprise that the services of The Big Four have touched me so deeply. It is a very special privilege to serve people at the happiest and saddest moments of their life, to break the bread and share the cup, to remember the Lord's death, to say an encouraging word when it is needed, to be in the long line of generations of Christians over hundreds and thousands of years who have taken part in these ecclesiastical services. It is nothing short of a miracle for me that I have been able to do these things and even if my work changed one day - maybe we will go back to Estonia one day? - I will treasure these moments dearly.

But of course, every coin has two sides, every equation has two sides. There are moments when I can serve others, do something meaningful for them, and then there are moments when I really need others to serve me, to do something for me that I can't do myself. 

Right now it is me who needs people to take care of and serve me. There is no nice way of putting it so I might just as well blurt it out - I am in the middle of my second miscarriage. This time we made it a little further, until the 12th week ultrasound. The baby was there, heartbeats weren't. Now, after three separate doctors have confirmed there is no sign of life inside me, I have to go to the hospital tomorrow (Wednesday) and go through the rest of the miscarriage there as they keep an eye on me, ready to help if need be.

If you are a praying type, please say a prayer for me tomorrow. I would appreciate it very much.

And that't the miracle of the church community. It is only by serving and supporting each other whenever the need arises that we know we will make it. And we will make it.